


It's like thunder, lightning (the way you love me is frightening)

by coldflashwavebaby



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Attempted Murder, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode AU: s01e15 Out of Time, Episode: s02e09 Running to Stand Still, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, My first real flashweather story, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 04:23:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11683989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldflashwavebaby/pseuds/coldflashwavebaby
Summary: It’d been so long since they’d really been together, long before the Flash, or Weather Wizard, or even the particle accelerator.





	It's like thunder, lightning (the way you love me is frightening)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at 3am, so don't judge me too harshly on errors.

            The storm was howling outside the precinct windows as Barry hurried up the stairs. It was after hours, only a skeleton crew of officers working, but Barry had flashed over when he noticed rain pattering the windows of his apartment. He’d left the skylight open in his lab—he may have caused a small fire during work hours and had needed to air out the lab before someone smelled smoke—and there was important paperwork on his desk that would be ruined by the rain if he didn’t get there fast enough.

            He nearly slipped on the top step, but continued running as fast as he could without his powers towards his lab. When he stepped inside, rain was pouring through the skylight.

            He sighed. Great. At least his paperwork hadn’t been damaged yet. He strode over to the chain and started pulling the window shut, the lightning flashing outside reminding him way too much of the night he was struck by the particle accelerator.

            It wasn’t until the skylight was shut that Barry noticed wet footprints leading away from the puddle of water gathered under the window, leading behind him. Lightning coursed through his limbs as he prepared for a fight, when—

            “You know, with all the meta criminals running around, you should really learn to close your windows.”

            Barry spun around, still on guard, but the lightning in him fading. Whether or not he was in danger, he knew he wasn’t in any immediate trouble. Mark Mardon stepped out of the shadows, a small smile on his lips.

            “Hey, Bare. It’s been awhile.”

            Barry scoffed. “It’s been less than three months, Mark. You remember—you broke a psychopath out of prison, threatened the lives of thousands of innocent people, including _children_ , and then blackmailed me into letting you kill me.”

            Mark’s smile fell, a veil of guilt falling over his eyes. “Barry, please…I didn’t know—”

            “You didn’t know it was me,” Barry finished for him. “But you _did_ know that you were forcing someone to choose between their life and the lives of over a hundred people. Does it matter if it was me, or if it was someone else?”

            “Yes,” Mark answered, stepping closer to the speedster. “Yes, it does…I love—”

            “Don’t you dare,” Barry snarled, taking a step back. “Don’t you even _dare_ try to tell me that you love me after all you’ve done. You tried to kill my foster father, you tried to kill _me_ , you tried to kill all those people…where does love come into that, Mark?”

            “Let’s not forget that you locked me up in tiny cell for four months without any human contact, remember that?” Mark argued. “So, stop acting like you’re a saint, _Flash_.”

            “I DIDN’T HAVE A CHOICE!” Barry shouted, the lightning surging back into his body. “I know what you were planning, Mark! I know about the tsunami! You were going to destroy Central City, and for what? It wouldn’t bring Clyde back.”

            Mark surged forward, his hands grabbing Barry by the coat and forcing him back, so he was leaned against the desk behind him. “Don’t you talk about him! Your foster father killed him!”

            They were pressed close together, now, in a way Barry hadn’t realized he missed. It’d been so long since they’d really been together, long before the Flash, or Weather Wizard, or even the particle accelerator. He’d met Mark while he was at Coast City University. He and the other forensic students decided to do a pub crawl and, somewhere between the first and third bar, Barry got drunk. Not ‘I don’t remember what happened’ drunk, but drunk enough that he ended up making out with a hot guy in a dark corner of the sixth bar and went home with him.

            Nothing happened—according to Mark, he’d passed out in the car, so, the next morning, he woke up on the couch, snuggled in a blanket with two aspirins and a glass of water beside him. Mark had been in the kitchen, cooking breakfast for both of them, whistling _Party in the U.S.A_ , and that was the moment Barry decided he wanted the strange man he’d gone home with.

            And, oh, did he get him.

            Mark never told Barry his last name, and Barry didn’t open up too much about his life with the Wests—he knew that Mark wasn’t the most savory character, but that didn’t stop him from falling head over heels for him. He and Mark spent every day of the next two years together—sleeping together, going on dates, even, on a memorable occasion, going on vacation together. He’d never felt as free as he did when he was with Mark.

            Then, college was over, and Barry was offered a job back home with the CCPD. Mark tried to convince him that they could make it work, but Barry decided it was best if they took a step back for a bit, settled down, and then, if they ever crossed paths again, see where life could take them.

            He didn’t expect, two years later, to hear that Mark Mardon and his brother, Clyde, robbed a bank, one of the two mugshots posted being _his_ Mark. He didn’t expect, after waking up after nine months in a lightning-induced coma, to hear that the Mardon Brothers had died in a plane crash on the night of the particle accelerator explosion.

            The discovery of his powers didn’t give him much time to grieve the man he’d cared for, but, every so often, he’d hear _Party in the U.S.A,_ or someone would say something that reminded him of Mark, and his heart would break all over again. When he found out Clyde was alive, he had hope that maybe, just maybe, Mark survived, too.

            Then, Joe killed Clyde protecting Barry, and he secretly hoped Mark hadn’t.

            When had the universe made Barry’s life easy, though?

            He’d been shocked—no pun intended—when he found out that, not only was Mark alive, but he was gunning for Joe, nearly killing both of them with a bolt of lightning to Joe’s car.

            When Mark attacked the precinct, trying to kill Joe, Barry thought he could reason with him. He flashed in, full costume, but instead of going for the wand, he put himself between his former lover and the police officers in the bull pen.

            “Mark, stop!”

            Mark did, freezing in place with a ball of hail in his hand. “You’re like me…I didn’t think anyone else had powers.”

            “I am. I am like you. And you don’t have to do this…” Without even considering the consequences of the entire CCPD knowing his identity, Barry pulled off his cowl. There was a collective gasp around the room, and a scolding “Barry!” from Joe, but he was entirely focused on Mark.

Mark’s eyes widened, and the hail fell from his hand. “Barry…”

            “It’s me, Mark.” Barry nodded. “I was affected by the particle accelerator, too. But you need to stop this. The man you’re trying to kill…he’s my father.”

            Mark’s eyes widened.

            “And I know he killed your brother,” Barry said quickly, “but he had his reasons. I can tell you about it. Just…” He stepped closer, hand outstretched. “Just come with me, and we can work all this out.”

            It almost worked. He almost had him. Then, someone fired their gun. Whether it was an accident or on purpose, Barry couldn’t tell, but the spell that had fallen between them shattered, and Mark sent a gust of wind at the officer. Barry knew that the time for talking was over— _for now_ —and went for the wand. But, the second he turned to use it, Mark was gone.

            The next time he heard from Mark, he kidnapped Joe and used his phone to call Barry. “I’m on a barge, near the southside waterfront. Come alone.”

            Barry flashed over to the river in an instant, running along the water until he saw a small barge anchored miles from the shore. He ran for it, skidding to a stop on the deck.

            A muffled shout drew his attention.

            “Joe!” His foster father was handcuffed to the railing of the barge, duct tape over his mouth. He ran to kneel at Joe’s side, carefully ripping the tape off his lips. “Joe, are you okay?”

            “Barry, get out of here!” he warned. “Mardon…he’s still here!”

            “Oh, no need to worry about Barry, Joe.” Barry almost fell as he turned to see Mark, leaned against the mast behind him. “I’m not going to hurt him.”

            Barry pushed himself to his feet. “Mark…what are you doing?”

            Mark slowly approached Barry, his hands behind his back. “What I have to Barry, to avenge my brother.” Without warning, he darted forward to bring their lips together. _Oh, had Barry missed his kisses._ He almost forgot that they were on a barge in Central, instead of back in Mark’s apartment in Coast City, and that, instead of congratulating him for passing his final, Mark was threatening his foster father.

            The chill of metal against his wrist, followed by a loud click, brought him back to reality. When Mark pulled back, he sighed apologetically.

            “I need to do this, Bare,” he whispered. “But I also need you out of the way. I need you _safe._ ”

            Barry frowned. “Safe from what?”

            Mark just shook his head, though, backing away from Barry. “I’m sparing one of your kids, Joe,” he snarled. “That’s about as generous as this is going to get.”

            He turned to face the shoreline and stretched his arms out to the side. Barry could feel the power emanating off of him, but there were no storm clouds. Then, he felt the barge rock, and a wall of water started forming in front of them.

            “Barry,” Joe called, “Iris is on the waterfront!”

            Barry’s heart nearly stopped. He pulled and pulled on the cuff, wishing he knew some way to use his speed to get out, but it was useless. The tsunami kept building.

            “Mark!” He yelled. “Mark, please don’t! I’m begging you!”

            But Mark was too consumed by revenge to listen. Barry thrashed, pulled, yanked at the handcuffs until his wrist bled. Then, he remembered something he’d learned from his college roommate, who was always paranoid about kidnappers because he watched way too much Criminal Minds.

            Barry took a deep breath, knowing that what he was about to do would hurt like hell, but also knowing he didn’t have any other choice. Letting out a scream, he grabbed his thumb and pulled it out of its socket. It hurt like a mother, but he was able to slip his hand free of the cuffs.

            It was too late to stop the tsunami—it was already heading for the shore, with or without Mark’s powers. But he could still save Iris.

            He ran as fast as he could, trying to beat the wave to the shoreline.

            That was the first time he time travelled.

            When he relived the day again, Barry brought himself to the conclusion that the Mark he’d loved was gone, replaced by a man with nothing in his heart but anger and a thirst for revenge.

            So, he locked him away. When he got out a Ferris Air, he fought him like he would any other criminal.

            And he never, _never_ , let on that the Flash was Barry Allen.

            Until Christmas came around, and Mark broke Captain Cold and the Trickster out to kill him. He’d been grateful that Snart decided to warn him, even if he didn’t show it—after all, being blindsided by your ex trying to kill your alter ego was a pain. But, when they faced off at the tree lighting ceremony, Barry knew Mark needed to know the truth. He deserved to know that the person he wanted to kill was also the person he used to cheat at strip poker with.

            He tried to tell him on the roof, when Mark threatened to kill everyone, but before he could, the ‘Weather Wizard’ flew away, leading him to the town square where James Jesse was waiting.

            When he threatened him with the lives of children, when he zapped and tortured him with his powers, Barry couldn’t resist the tears that fell from his eyes. This was someone he loved doing this to him. Someone he’d given his heart to, no matter how much had happened since then.

            “I’m done with him,” he distantly heard Mark say. “Do what you want.”

            James Jesse skipped over to his side, a knife clutched in his hand, and started chirping about how he was going to slice him and why he wanted to slice him. Barry wasn’t really listening. His eyes were fixed on Mark, hovering—though not literally—nearby.

            “Mark…” he called, not bothering to mask his voice. He wanted him to know who he was killing. He wanted to know it was Barry Allen talking to him. “Mark…I’m sorry…”

            Mark froze in place, his eyes widening as he stared at Barry, probably mentally taking the mask off and matching the voice. “Oh my God…”

            Without any warning to his partner, Mark shot a bolt of lightning at Trickster’s back, knocking the psycho unconscious while he ran to Barry’s side.

            “Barry…oh my god, I didn’t know…” he cradled Barry’s head in his lap. “I wouldn’t have…if I’d known the truth about who you were…”

            Police sirens approached, and Barry knew that, if Mark stayed, he’d be arrested. And, despite everything he’d done, he couldn’t watch someone else he loved go to prison.

            “Go…” he urged. “Run…get away…”

            Mark frowned, but Barry gave him a reassuring smile. He’d be fine. Mark needed to leave. So, he did. And that was the last time Barry had seen him.

            Up until now, standing in Barry’s lab, with Mark more or less pinning Barry against his desk. Barry let out a shuddered breath. “We’ve both hurt each other,” he finally said. “And there’s a lot of blood and darkness between us. Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe what we had before was all we were ever meant to have, Mark. Maybe we both need to just accept that and move on.”

            He tried to push Mark away so he could busy himself—maybe get a mop for the puddle—but Mark pushed forward even more, a fiery, almost crazed look in his eye. “Like hell,” was all Mark said before darting forward to bring their lips together.

            It wasn’t like that kiss that hadn’t happened, back on the barge. No, this was wild and furious, like a hurricane Barry was getting swept away in. Mark released his coat, moving his hands to the back of Barry’s head and the back of his thigh. He wrapped Barry’s leg around his waist, pulling him in even closer so they were grinding against each other.

            Barry’s hands scrambled to grab something, from Mark’s shirt to his shoulders, finally settling on clutching his hair. The other meta moaned deeply as Barry gave the strands a small tug. They finally separated their mouths to greedily suck in air, but Mark didn’t waste time moving his lips down Barry’s jaw, right towards that spot in front of his ear that always had Barry melting in his arms.

            Barry could hear himself moaning, every now and then Mark’s name slipping from his lips, until, suddenly, Mark pulled away. A needy whine left Barry’s throat, but Mark just gave him a wicked smirk. A strong gust of wind blew through the room, knocking everything in the center of Barry’s desk to the floor.

            _There goes that paperwork…_ was the last sane thought he had before Mark wrapped his arms around him and lifted him onto the desk.

            He swooped back in for another kiss, his fingers finding the part of Barry’s shirt that buttoned together and ripped it apart, sending buttons flying everywhere. Barry didn’t care about his shirt though. Not when Mark was running his hands down his torso, his lips dragging away from Barry’s so they could dance across the newly exposed skin.

            “Mark…” Barry panted. “Mark…please do something…anything, I just need…”

            He felt those lips tick up into a smirk. “Oh, Barry,” he cooed, pushing the speedster so he was now lying across his desk, “I know what you need.” He brought his hand down to the prominent bulge in Barry’s jeans.

            Barry threw his head back and groaned. He didn’t care what Mark did with him, he just needed him to do something soon. The sound of a zipper drew his attention back down to where Mark was unzipping the jeans to free Barry’s arousal. Without touching it, frustratingly, he slowly removed Barry’s jeans, leaving him all but naked while Mark stood there, fully clothed.

            Mark’s eyes slowly dropped over Barry’s body, drinking him in like a man would hadn’t had water in weeks. “God, I missed you,” he sighed. “I thought about you all the time. After a while, I wasn’t sure if what I remembered about you was real or if I’d somehow made it up. But, if anything, I think my mind undersold this.”

            He let his fingers trail up Barry’s body, around his hard cock, across his new abs, up his throat, until they stopped on his cheek. “I do love you. Ever since you passed out in my car.”

            His other hand went to his pocket, and he pulled out a condom and a foil of lube. Barry’s breath caught in his throat.

            “Oh, I see,” Barry teased, trying to sound less affected than he was, “you had this planned out.”

            Mark snorted. “Ever since I knew you were back in my life, I’ve carried these in my pocket,” he replied, opening the lube. “Although, I couldn’t help but picture what this whole situation would’ve been like in _costume_.”

            His finger stared circling Barry’s rim, and Barry swallowed hard. “You mean—you as Weather Wizard, and me as the Flash?”

            Mark hummed, his smirk growing when he pushed the finger in, and Barry arched off the desk. “You see, how I pictured it,” he explained, thoroughly stretching Barry before adding another finger, “was me, robbing a bank. Maybe I’m with Snart and his metas, maybe I’m alone, it changes. But, no matter what, you show up just as I’m getting away with the cash.”

            Barry moaned as he added yet another finger, and squeezed his eyes shut.

            “You grab me and carry me away, maybe on a rooftop, or, sometimes, I picture you bringing me back to that apartment you took me from. You slam me against the wall, lightning flashing behind your eyes to show all that power rushing under your skin, but I know you’re not going to hurt me. You’re the _hero._ ”

            The fingers suddenly left, leaving Barry feeling open and empty. He whined loudly, his hips shifting, wanting something inside of him. “Mark…come on…”

            “Shhh…” The sound of a zipper and fabric being tossed echoed in the near-silent room. Barry cracked open his eyes, and his heart nearly stopped. Mark had shucked off all of his clothes, so now they were both naked, Barry a CSI and Mark a criminal, in the CCPD Crime Lab. He was _so_ glad there weren’t any cameras. Mark quirked an eyebrow as he opened the condom with his teeth, before slowly rolling it on his hard cock.

            “As I was saying,” he grabbed the backs of Barry’s legs and dragged him forward until his hips were at the edge of the desk, “you’re not going to hurt me, but I can do all the _dastardly_ things I want to you.”

            He lined up his erection with Barry’s hole and pushed in slowly. For a second, Barry couldn’t breathe. It was so good, yet so much, too much. He white-knuckled the edge of the desk above his head with both hands, exhaling shakily as Mark entered him completely.

            “ _Fuck, you’re so good,”_ Mark hissed, his chest heaving. “How could I forget how amazing this felt?”

            He pulled out until only the crown was left inside and thrusted back in. The air punched out of Barry. “What ‘dastardly’ things,” Barry gasped, “do you do?”

            Mark chuckled as he continued thrusting, in and out, slow and steady. “I overpower you, pin you to the wall, face first. I have you right there, in full red leather, with those tight pants around your knees. And you beg and beg for more. So, I pull you back into a chair, with you straddling my lap, and I spear you again and again on my cock until you’re throwing your head back, ready to come.”

            The remaining things on his desk—the lamp, his name plate, a mug of pencils he kept—all shook as Mark thrusted harder and faster into him. The smell of ozone started to fill the room the closer they came to release, but Barry couldn’t think about it. The only thing running through his mind was _yes_ , _more_ , and _oh god._

            Finally, Mark practically bent him in half to kiss him again, silencing his moan of ecstasy. Pleasure flowed through him as he came, his muscles clenching around Mark as he released into Barry.

            The hair on Barry’s body stood on end, and the room lit up, followed by a loud crash.

            Mark collapsed on Barry, breathing heavily into his neck as they both enjoyed their post-orgasmic bliss.

            “You know,” Barry whispered, “this doesn’t change what’s happened. And it doesn’t help us figure out what we’re going to do.”

            A finger fell on his lips, shushing him. “We’ll think about that later,” Mark replied, blissfully. “For now, let’s pretend it’s four years ago, and neither of us have powers, and there are no heroes and villains.”

            Barry agreed, leaning back to relax with Mark, but the smell of smoke tickled his nose. He raised his head slightly, and quickly smothered a barking laugh. “Um, that might be hard. I think that we may have created a lightning bolt.”

            Mark sat up with a frown and glanced over his shoulder, grinning when he noticed the scorched bookshelf behind him. “Damn,” he laughed.

            A chill fell over Barry’s skin, and he pulled Mark back down over his naked body like a blanket. Maybe they wouldn’t work. Maybe too much had happened since Coast City. But none of it mattered in that moment, where Barry held Mark against him, imagining if life were so much simpler.


End file.
